


The Sheltered Boy and the Rebel

by LadyCookieCupcake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Hux is adorable Hux, Based on a theory of mine on how General Hux was raised, Brief mention of abuse (bruises are seen but the actual abuse is not), F/M, Just set in modern era, M/M, Multi, No Happy Ever After, No happy endings, Personal Theory/Imagine for General Hux, Posted on Deviantart Quotev and Wattpad, Rebel and Rich Boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCookieCupcake/pseuds/LadyCookieCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Brendol Hux, young and so very constricted within his father's tight-lipped, harsh rules, meeting you, a young student at the local college, eager for the adventure called life, eager for an escape. You both fall in love...of course, it doesn't end well.</p><p>*</p><p>Modern!General Hux x Reader</p><p>I do not own Star Wars nor any of the characters mentioned within this story. This also includes yourself, you own you - and maybe General Hux owns you a little as well. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sheltered Boy and the Rebel

                                                                             

( _Modern AU)_  


_Imagine Brendol Hux, young and so very constricted within his father's tight-lipped, harsh rules, meeting you, a young student at the local college, eager for the adventure called life, eager for an escape. You both fall in love...of course, it doesn't end well._

  
*****  


  
You glare over at the new boy, straight ginger hair splaying over his shoulders a little. He bites his bottom lip, an action made out of nerves yet igniting a strange fire within you, and you huff, glaring at him a little more. He seems to deflate, his shoulders slumping ever-so-slightly and lips pursing, and you try and forget him.

But it would seem if there was one thing this boy was, it was stubborn. Extremely so. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see him open his mouth, and before you had time to look up and glare him into submission, he was saying, "Hello, my name is Brendol Hux." He held his hand out, and for a few seconds all you did was look at it. What...what was he doing? Was he trying to be polite? Did he not  _know_ this school? Surely, he should; it was  _his_ father who was trying to take control over it, after all.

You rolled your eyes and looked away, stabbing at the piece of potato and pushing it into your mouth, regardless if the way you ate it was polite or not. As long as it bothered this posh boy in front of you, you didn't care, and it did seem to bother him, his grimace clear despite obviously trying to hide it a second later. He pulled his hand back towards himself, letting it fall into his lap, and you stabbed at another piece of food, not bothering to wait to swallow the other piece before shoving it into your mouth. You chewed and he figurted, and you smirked because surely this, if nothing else, would make him leave.

It didn't.

Instead, something seemed to harden in his eyes, and then he was looking up at you, eyes narrowed (though they did soften just a little when coming face-to-face with your own narrowed pair) and mouth open to snap something out. Luckily the bell rang out, signalling the end of lunch and the beginning of the two last classes. You didn't wait for him to say whatever it seemed so intent upon saying; instead, you dropped the fork you had been using, grabbed your bag and walked off, leaving the dirty tray and the open-mouthed boy behind. You walked straight out the door and into the courtyard, not bothering to stay for the last two lessons.  
 

*****

  
"I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," began the voice you'd managed to avoid for the last three days, as the wiry figure of Brendol Hux Junior's sat across from your, his own lunch held neatly in some particular box, "-and I would really like to be your friend. So I would like to redo our intro-."

You didn't bother waiting for him to finish, just got up and grabbed your bag. You didn't want to be seen with this rich boy, let alone actually talk to him,  _especially_ not become friends with him. He was some rich boy who thought himself higher than everybody in this school, they all were, and even if they weren't,  _he_ would because he was the son of Brendol Hux Senior and that bastard had been the cause of most people's misery, including your own father's. You didn't want to be seen with any of the Huxs!

Throwing the bag's strap over your head, you were just about to walk off when a lithe grip held tight onto your wrist, making you pause in your escape. Instantly, you turned, glaring fiercely down at the grip before looking up at the boy who restricted you from leaving. "What do you think you're doing?" You exclaimed, not caring if people stared (and they did; they were all a nosy bunch of assholes who couldn't mind their own fucking business). "I want to get to know you! Why won't you let me?" He exclaimed back, answering your question with one of his own, which caused you to glare more at him. You just wanted to leave, to be alone for the few minutes you got before having to go straight back home and dealing with an alcoholic father and an unruly mother! You wanted peace for five fuckin' minutes! Was that so much to ask for?

He surprisingly glared back with just as much fierceness your own glare had, and stuffing his lunch box in his bag somehow with just one hand, he grabbed his bag and walked off...with his grip still firmly clasped around your wrist. You huffed as he dragged you out of the hall, growling as he got further and further away from the hall. Though you were relieved to be free of wondering eyes, you didn't want to be near him, so you struggled and struggled, and even as he dragged you out of the school building and over to the large tree with the overlapping branches, you continued to struggle.

Finally, he stopped, though not without a suddenness that made you walk right into him, too focused on trying to undo his fingers from your wrist. You snapped your head up at him, eyes narrowed and face filled with anger- and then you paused, your face quickly softening into a blank expression when you saw it, that odd feeling you never thought you'd see in one born from a rich family. He had everything after all; a happy family (even with how much of a bastard his father was), money, and you were sure with such a determination he had, he had friends. Maybe even a girlfriend, (you refused to admit how your heart tightened at that, so oddly painful that thought being). He must have everything, and yet there it is, that loneliness you often saw whenever you looked in the mirror. Those exact eyes, though different in colour, were so exact to the ones that stared painfully back at you.

He shouldn't feel...lonely. He had everything, anything he could ever want, you were sure he could get it. Yeah, he had a dickhead of a father but that didn't stop him from having it all...it couldn't, it couldn't cause such loneliness like that.

(Maybe you were trying to just deny it, maybe you were trying to think of any and every excuse possible, because you didn't want to feel relateable to the son of a bastard, especially not the one who sent your father into a terrifying down spiral of arguments and booze, and yet...)

"...and I know how hard it can be to make friends, and I saw you and thought you seemed pretty cool and-." You suddenly became aware of him speaking, well more like rambling, with just a hint of nerves, and you glared at him, growling as you tugged your wrist free. This seemed to bring him back to reality, because startled, he let go of your wrist with a taken aback look, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Tightening a grip on your bag strap, you continued to glare at him for a minute, before sighing and softening your features into a more...calmer expression, one that obviously worked well, if the way his stiff shoulders slumped a little was any indication.

"Just move," was all you demanded, in an annoyed growl, but Hux Junior didn't seem to mind because he nodded, smiled a little and began to walk. His hand moved to grab hold of yous, with a little hesitance, but a menacing glare made him stop, and instead he walked off. For a second, you wondered if you should just run then, it's not like he would even notice- but then he looked over and shot you a rather adorable smile and goodness, you were suddenly breathless.

Maybe you should run, you thought as you tightened your grip on the strap and walked after him, making sure to keep a reasonable distance between the two of you.  
 

*****

  
Three weeks later, while sitting under that tree with it's overlapping branches and perfect shade, you were sitting there, half-listening to Hux talk- and then suddenly you were both sharing a kiss; it was brief, accidental, awkward and so very much the best kiss you've ever had. You didn't realise it until then, but it meant the whole world to you,  _he_  meant the whole world to you. The thought of him leaving, of never seeing him again, suddenly became too much to bear, and this scared you because this didn't happen to your kind. A good, happy life didn't happen to you, who was born into a bad life, nor did it happen to anyone who you associated with.

You feared the future, of what was to come, but then he was holding your hand, grasping it almost desperately, and you suddenly became enmoured with the present, uncaring about the future (at least in that very moment). You realised as he slowly, hesitantly guided your head to lay upon his shoulder, that you didn't want to lose Hux to the darkness of reality, you'd already lost too many to it.

So you made a promise, a strong promise, one you never thought you'd make, to protect him and his strange innocence. You'd protect his light and ward off his darkness. It would work...you were( _weren't_ ) so sure.  
 

*****

  
It hadn't even been two days when authority decided to challenge you against the promise you'd made, in the form of your most hated person - Brendol Hux Senior. You had been in Hux's bedroom, his door was supposed to be locked just in case someone decided to barge in, you and him were supposed to be safe from getting caught.

Hux forgot to lock the door though, and before either of you had realised it, Hux Senior was walking straight in, the door opening with a loud thud as it hit the wall. Brendol Hux Senior was an opposing figure, not muscular but nowhere near fragile. He had the appearance of a leader, a strong leader who'd seen the world and it's harshness and has decided to use it and carry on, to not back down.

You didn't realise you could hate him anymore until you met him in person, and then you felt like murdering him because how? How could such a man raise such an innocent fellow as his son? And how dare he glare at you and drag you out of the house like you were the vermin? Just because you had a lower status than he, just because your family didn't have enough money to live up to his expectations! You loved Hux and you weren't going to back down simply because this man wanted it so- and you told him so, and if it shocked you as much as it seemed to shock him, you refused to show it.

Instead, he continued to throw you open and slam the door in your face, the last face you seeing being that of Brendol Hux Junior's almost...frightened gaze. It made your heart ache and your blood pump, but no matter how hard you tried to find a way back in, there seemed to be none.

Reluctantly you were left with no choice but to walk off, assured you would see him the next day, at school.  
 

*****

  
You didn't, and you didn't see him the next day after that or the day after that as well, and by the time it had been two weeks, he refused to answer your calls and texts and you'd seen neither hair nor hide of your rich lover, and it worried you beyond belief. Stuck in class, wishing you had skipped it, thoughts of all the worst case scenarios flooded your brain, and no matter how many times you'd shake your head, they'd always stay.

So, as soon as the bell rang, you ran off to his family's home, uncaring if his father or mother caught you. You ran and ran until finally you were at his home, and then you rang his doorbell, and when nobody came to answer that, you ran around to the back garden, jumping over the fenced gate to get in. You stumbled a little but quickly regained your balance to shoot up, skidding to a stop as you banged against the garden doors.

"Hux! Open up!" You called out, cupping your eyes to peer through the glass windows. You saw the fancy kitchen, but no person. No maid, no parent, no Hux Junior. Your heart thudded as you panicked. You knew Brendol Senior wouldn't be happy; Hux himself had said so, explained how high his father's expectations were and that none of them included you, a poor student at the local school, living in the more rougher area of the town. You'd been told and you'd nodded but you hadn't taken it in, not really focused when awkward hands roamed your body, bringing you to the edge, eliciting shivers of pleasure every time they touched your bare skin.

You truly wished you had when, finally, the door opened to reveal Hux and honestly, you hadn't known what to expect. Maybe a disappointed Hux, for disappointing his father (because no matter how much his father controlled his entire life, Hux wanted to please his father), but not this, not...

Without even realising it, you reached out, careful fingers shaking as they reached up to trace blue and purple bruises, that cut lip, black eye, hand-shaped bruises around his throat-. "(Y/N), please." came that whimper, a whimper that shouldn't be there, not like that (the only whimper you wanted to hear from him was one of pleasure, not- not one because he was...afraid), and you stopped, pausing as you realised your hand had curled. You took some deep breathes, trying to calm yourself down since you didn't want to scare him. You wanted him to trust you, to know you wouldn't do anything to hurt him, that this had just taken you by surprise.

"I'm so-," you tried, but Hux interrupted with a simple raised hand and a softly-spoken, "I think you should leave." The door was then closed, with no chance of an answer from you, and you could just about see the retreating figure of your once-lover, and this was't what you wanted, this was what you were trying to prevent! You didn't want him to go, to leave you! You were supposed to protect him, you weren't there to protect him,  _why?!_

You walked off, mechanically, jumping back over the gate and walking down the path. It was only until you were out of view that everything suddenly came crashing down on you, and you had to grip the bush beside you. The sharp, thin branches caught your skin, drawing blood, but you ignored it, giving off a soft hiss of pain but nothing else.

You were so foolish to believe this would work; you were a poor kid, he was a rich one. There was a reason the poor and the rich don't mix.  
 

*****

  
A month later, it was announced Brendol Hux Senior now owned your school, and that there would be a lot of different rules taking place. You didn't bother listening, not caring. You never really saw Hux Junior again; you assumed he was sent to a proper school - one made for the rich and the pompous - and so you went on with life. Eventually you left school, you tried to create a good future for yourself, and then a night originally planned to drown your sorrows of the past in, ended with a one night stand and then a baby being born, and suddenly you had your child to look after and she was truly the only reason you continued on.

Considering how things could have gone, your life wasn't bad... and then you saw it, the picture of a smiling, ginger-haired man. His hair, now cut short and styled neatly, still looked so soft, like the time you used to run your fingers through it. He was dressed impeccably, and standing beside his father, you could certainly see the Hux bloodline in him.  _Like father, like son, and yet..._

You turned away and you focused on your baby girl,  _your_  future while he collected his from his father, smiling into the camera as he shook hands with his father. You went on with your life and, you presumed, he went on with his.

(But if you had just turned, just focused one second longer on the TV, maybe then you would have seen the little falter in his smile, the way his eyes dimmed just a little as his father turned away. Maybe then you would have realised the rich boy wasn't as happy as his outward appearance exclaimed, but you didn't, and so as life always has it, your potential love story never came back. It was a thing of the past, and it continued to be a thing of the past... **.** )


End file.
